An Advent Of Fluff
by Bhangra Santa
Summary: Christmas clichés and RLSB fluff. A bit of fun.
1. Introduction

**Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be **

**Dedication: To Ioana, who names her possessions…**

An Advent Of Fluff

Before I came to Hogwarts, I'd always had one of those chocolate advent calendars. It came from my Dad, as he's a Muggle-Born, and Mum always used to charm the little doors to sing carols at me. It was sweet (in both senses of the word) and I miss it dreadfully in the five Christmases I've spent at Hogwarts.

This year is my Sixth Year. I have steadfast friendships. I am happy. But, I've always hankered for the old tradition of that blasted Advent Calendar… I made the mistake of mentioning this to Sirius today.

**Well, this is the introduction to my soon-to-be series, An Advent Of Fluff. It should be pretty good, but I'm not promising anything. It'll be eventual RL/SB...**


	2. Day One

**Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be **

**Dedication: To Helena, who I'm supposedly married to.**

The First Day

I awake to a gentle shaking of my shoulders. It's the first of December and I still feel the urge to run to the door of my bedroom and find a small chocolate in the shape of Santa (who actually looks rather like Dumbledore when I think about it.) I realise that I can't run to the door of my bedroom and find a small chocolate in the shape of Santa (who actually looks rather like Dumbledore when I think) because I am not at home. I stick my bottom lip out slightly. I'll be in a bad mood for the rest of the day.

"What!" I say, maybe a little too loudly for- I glance at the clock -six in the morning. Sirius looks at the other two boys in our dormitory before replying:

"Wow Moony, you dun' half have a set of pipes on you! I just wanted to give you a surprise, you know, for Advent."

My frosty mood thaws a little (I briefly notice that the weather hasn't). That really is quite sweet. I'm not quite sure what to do with this… niceness, so I sound unsure when I reply:

"Err… Thanks Padfoot, what've you got in store for me?"

Having had time to think, I can see that this will turn out to be a prank, nothing more than a joke at my despondence. My already jutting lower lip sticks out a little further at this thought.

"It's good, I promise! Follow me."

He pulls the shoulder he was shaking earlier and leads me to… the dorm bathroom.

"Go inside!" He encourages, once again shaking my poor abused shoulder.

I go inside, fully expecting there to be some kind of auto-hex on the door. But instead I find a small chocolate statue of Father Christmas. I'm astounded at his knowledge of my mind.

"How did you..?" I start. Before breaking into a run to look at the jolly little man-statue on the other side of the room. I instantly recognise it as the ones they were selling in Honeydukes back in October. I once again utter, in super-coherency, "How did you..?"

"You were raving about the sodding things earlier, and your old Advent Calendar. Just thought I'd… make you happy."

I blush slightly and thank him for this wonderful gift. We spend the next hour or so (before James and Peter wake up) eating Santa.

I go to sleep later that night wondering what I may have in store tomorrow.

**Well, there it is, the First of December. If you feel kind, leave a review and an idea for what should happen next. You'll get a dedication and I'll get reviews, I MEAN writing practice.**


	3. Day Two

**Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be **

**Dedication: To Camilla, who is quite a bit like 'The Stereotype Sirius'**

The Second Day

Today, I do not wake up to shaking, or indeed shouting, or any encouragement on Sirius's part. I am briefly disappointed when I think that maybe it was a one-day-thing, but then I remember his kindness yesterday, and just feel thankful that he thought of me at all. Merlin, sometimes I really am soppy.

I walk around the school with a spring in my step, the more I think about it, the more I feel happy at Sirius's kindness yesterday. For a while now, I have harboured a… crush if you will on him. While I know his intentions are (or were) pure, I can still have fantasies.

The last lesson of the day is History Of Magic. I look all around the classroom as I take my seat at the back of the class, next to Sirius. It's dusty in here, almost like snow… I see Professor Binns writing _The Goblin Rebellions_ on the board. Again. We've been doing this subject for a while now, and it's all stuff I know. (I'm one of those people who receives textbooks and has read them by the next lesson.) I wish we could learn about _The Wizarding Participation In The Second World War_, a subject that, while I already know most things about, is interesting.

I sigh as Binns begins the lesson. I ponder my earlier thought about dust as snow. There are actually footprints in the dust. It's a wonder, as there are lessons in this room every other class period. Maybe it's charmed. I then start to think about the Charms that would've gone into that.

'Sticking Charm, maybe a reverse of the Vacuum Charm…'

I catch snippets of the lesson Binns is teaching. He has actually given this lecture over and over again for the past three weeks. The first time, I took notes. Now, I haven't.

I turn to look at Sirius. He's not there. I look around, thinking he may be playing a joke, but he's walking up to the front of the class. He winks at me. He then proceeds to capture Professor Binns' attention (Merlin knows how) and whispers something to the ghost.

"Well," says Binns, in a more passionate tone of voice than before "as Mr. Bell has just told me, we have been doing the Goblin Rebellions for some time now, I think we'll move onto… What was it Mr. Buck?"

Another whisper from Sirius.

"Ah yes, _The Wizarding Participation In The Second World War_." I stare at Sirius amazed. He slinks back to his seat and says:

"Happy Second of Advent."

**Well, that wasn't too clichéd hopefully!**


	4. Day Three

**Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be **

**Dedication: To thequeeneb, who gave me the idea for this part.**

Day Three

_As always, it snowed in Scotland. It snowed. And snowed. And… snowed. The grounds are covered with at least six inches of fluffy white snow. It's beautiful. But bloody cold._

_I am sitting here wondering what to do for Moony today. Who knew it was so hard to come up with ways of delighting people. That damn snow is too distracting. I wish Prongs were in on this, his brain is full of mushy ideas for Lily… Not that I want mushy! I mean, I don't like Remus that way. Most of the time._

_Wait! Prongs!_

I am sitting here, in the cold waiting for Sirius to show up and show me today's gift. It's freezing here by the lake, and the poor Giant Squid is unlucky enough to have caught one of it's tentacles in the frozen water of the lake.

Ah, here comes Sirius. A large black shape against all the white around him. He scowls (yes, I can tell when he's scowling even from a distance, it's all in the body language) as some Slytherin throws a snowball at him. With a quick movement of the wrist, and I suppose of the lips, there is a massive weight of snow flying at the poor Slytherin.

As he approaches, I stand, and when he gets even closer, he simply grabs my wrist an carries on walking toward the Forbidden Forest.

We move towards the looming forest in silence, Sirius is still scowling and seems to be limping slightly (from a hex I assume). I see yet another white object, a stag actually, attached to a large brown object, a sleigh.

We sit in the sleigh and Sirius hit's the white stag. It's a beautiful twelve-pointer, like James, it seems a shame to make it haul us around. In fact, it's white, like James.

"Prongs?" I whisper to Sirius

"Yes," he says as he nods "the things we do for you Moony."


	5. Day Four

**Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be **

**Dedication: To Io, who has a sexy secretary uniform**

**A/N: This is going to be slightly more of an analysis, than humorous thing.**

Day Four

He never sleeps, and it's because of that hard pillow he insists on taking just to give the rest of us the soft squishy ones. I've always seen him looking at them, lamentably I might add. He always gives things up, even when he has the chance to take happiness, he never does.

When we became anamagi for him, he immediately said thank you, but he's always said that we did it for ourselves as no-one could, would care that much for him. No matter how often I've told him that he should take things he wants, throw his head back and laugh, he never does. Remus is quiet, reserved, kind. Self deprecating as well.

I've always been brought up to be proud and stand tall. My parents may hate me, but they don't want to besmirch the good Black name. His parents love him more than anything in this world, they always tell him as much, but he never believes them. Asks 'who could love a monster?' It's one of the saddest things I've ever heard.

In the morning, I slip quietly over to his bed, soft pillows in hand, and lift his head up, gently taking his hard thing and replacing it with my softer pillow. In the morning, he raises his head, and smiles.


	6. Day Five

**Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be **

**Dedication: To polynesia, who gave me an idea for this 'chapter'.**

Day Five

There were always beautiful Christmas trees in the Great Hall. Massive things that sparkled with different decorations each year. The First Years were always impressed, but then so were the Seventh Years, they were that gorgeous.

I had the idea that we should put up a mini tree in our dorm, only a foot or so high. But make it nice, a Marauder tree never to be rivalled. I could also be a surprise for the others when they came back from lessons. I had a free lesson while they had Care Of Magical Creatures. Perfect.

> > > >

Trust Sirius to get sick on the one day I wanted them all out of the dorm. He's sitting in his bed coughing and hacking away, but all the while watching me with bright blue eyes. Stupid boy. I'll have to let him in on my plan.

"Sirius, I want to put a tree up in here before Prongs and Wormtail get back." I say it all in one breath but rather loudly. Damn, now he thinks I'm mad.

"O.K." He manages after a series of particularly violent coughs.

"Good." I say, rather redundantly, because he was never going to stop me or anything. I suddenly realise I don't have a tree.

"Umm, Sirius..?" I ask tentatively. He looks tired and pale, he should really sleep this off…

"Yes?" His eyes have bags. Big bags.

"How do you transfigure chairs into trees?" It sounds like such a stupid question.

"The spell is-" Hacking coughs ensue.

"The spell is-" More coughing.

"The spell is-" Yet more coughing.

"Sod it." he says, before pointing his wand at a chair, mumbling some Latin. A palm tree appears.

"Best I can do." He says, sounding but not looking apologetic.

"Thanks…" I murmur. I then realise I have no decorations. I turn around quietly to look at Sirius. We lock eyes and he points up. I see many decorations. With a quick flick of his wrist, about twenty ornaments fall on me.

"Merry Fifth." He says, before falling asleep.


	7. Day Six

**Disclaimer: Not mine etc.  
Dedication: To Laura, my oldest friend**

Day Six

Moony wasn't wearing a scarf today when he went outside. Merlin knows WHY he went outside, but he did and he wasn't wearing a scarf. Silly bastard.

I'm still sick, but looking at the palm tree in the corner, with the twenty or so ornaments magically fastened to it (ornaments that apparently hurt when dropped on your head) I remember that I need to do something special for Remus. So I accio James's bookcalled _Household Spells_ (he uses it to impress Lily sometimes) and look up a knitting charm.

When I get back from lessons today, there's a scarf on my (new, softer) pillow. It's ugly, has twenty different colours and many holes. It also has a note saying 'Happy Sixth'. I'll wear it always.


	8. Day Seven

**Disclaimer: Not mine etc.  
Dedication: To Sophie, who's sick near to her birthday**

Day Seven

I'm still sick. When I get sick, I'm sick for a long time. It's already been three days! I'm also addicted to this _Household Spells_ book. I flick to page 44 and look at a page I've dog-eared. The title at the top of the page reads: _Basic Cooking Charms_. I immediately think of how thin Moony is. I then wonder which is better, biscuits or chicken stew?

I return today to a small plate of biscuits and a snoring Sirius. The note, as I had thought, says 'Happy Seventh', but it also says INEDIBLE: DO NOT EAT.


	9. Day Eight

**Disclaimer: Not mine etc.  
Dedication: To Georgia, who missed four French tests.**

Day Eight

I wake to see a sweating Sirius (which is amazing considering it's the middle of December in Scotland) and a guilty feeling. For the past seven days, he's been doing nice things for me. I decide to do something so unlike me. I'm going to skip classes today.

I spend my day chatting idly to Sirius and fetching a large, red bucket we keep in our dorm in case of vomiting. His illness (I forget what he has) is taking a long time to disappear. This is taking it's toll on Sirius. I decide to make him laugh.

I don a little white dress and hat with a white cross on top. I cluck like Madame Pomfrey and make Sirius laugh. As he almost falls asleep, I whisper: "Happy Eighth."

**Yes, I know I haven't posted. Yes, I know that these three chapters were short and crap. And yes, you have permission to send hate-mail.**


	10. Day Nine

**Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be.  
Dedication: To Liam, who made me laugh and get drunk.**

Day Nine

I love music. However, it's a big topic of debate in the Fifth Year Gryffindor dorm room. James and Sirius like the whole glam rock thing, though they don't follow the style (but whether that's fortunate or not, I don't know.) Peter's in to songs from old musicals. Weird boy that one. I like Disco, which is great cause for penalising. You see, it's not the kind of thing you'd associate with me.

Today, I walk around the dorm while James and Peter go to satisfy their insatiable appetites. I must be humming some disco song or other, because (a very bored) Sirius shouts something along the lines of:

"Shut the fuck up." Harsh words, but he's bored and bed-ridden. Sometimes, there's nothing Sirius loves more than an argument. So I say:

"Better than that _T-Rex_ shit you listen to." That was the start of two hours entertainment.

"Happy Ninth you fairy git." I say as he grins at me.

**For the record (though I now ask the question 'What record?', the reason I chose those genres of music is because they are three that I love. Alot. So I feel... equipped to say bad things about them. (Though not much was said...)**


	11. Day Ten

**Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be **

**Dedication: To Sophie, who's birthday is on the 11th**

Day Ten

_When Sirius set his mind to something, a prank say, the outcome was always rich with his work and the work put into the outcome phenomenal. That was only his mind. What of his body? And no, not his body in a sexual manner. It would appear that his body had decided to give Sirius the flu, complete with all the... crap that comes with the flu. Remus secretly blessed the flu, and the way that it ravaged Sirius body._

_It was a Saturday. The sky was cloudy and dull, but the air had was clear and crisp, the kind that nips at you. It was in these conditions that James left for Quidditch practice that morning, Peter in tow, and pressing a piece of paper in Remus's hand on the finer points of caring for The Fancy Cold (as Sirius called it.)_

_Today was the worst of the flu, which, as Remus explained, meant it could only get better. Remus secretly enjoyed this… caring of Sirius. It was like having a small child, complete with unreasonable requests._

"Moony, sing me a lullaby." Sirius pleads, staring at me with large eyes. Half of the normal brilliance of that gaze is lost as the eyes in question are red and generally tired looking.

"Why?" I ask. It's a weird request. I'll end up singing, he knows I will too.

"I need sleep. Now." He accentuates his statement with a yawn.

"Fine," I secretly love singing, but he doesn't need to know that "funny song, or sweet song?"

"Fun-" another yawn "-ny" sounds good.

_"When I was a wee wee tot,_

_They took me from my wee wee cot,_

_They put me on my wee wee pot,_

_To see if I would wee wee or not"_

Ordinairily, this would illicit a laugh from Padfoot. Today, I receive yet another yawn. I sigh and say:

"Sweet song then?"

"Yeah," he says "just as long as it isn't weird."

"Charming." I mumble, before starting my song.

_"If I were a meadow lark,_

_Soaring so high, _

_I'd bring you a silver star, _

_Out of the sky._

_And were I a buttercup,_

_Brimming with gold, _

_I'd bring you the wine, _

_That my chalices hold._

_And were I a breeze, _

_From the whisp'ring deep, _

_I'd peep through the lattice, _

_And sing you to sleep"_

"Nice voice." He says, before proceeding to snore.

"Happy tenth to you too mate…" I mumble, before resuming my (formerly ignored) reading.

**GAH! The format on this one is weird. The bold is me, the initial italic writing is third person (no duh) and the rest of the italic denotes a song. Ach, hopefully this is alright... I was in a music-y mood...**


	12. Day Eleven

**Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be **

**Dedication: To Christmas shopping! It's the best! (Yes, I'm one of those people who buys things in October so misses the crowds.)**

Day Eleven

I'm starting to get a bit worried about Sirius now. He's been ill for quite some time and he's usually the sort who never EVER gets ill. It's a Hogsmeade weekend, and I really need to get presents, but I can't leave him if he's ill. He sighs and I turn to look at him.

"You alright Padfoot?" I ask tentatively, I don't particularly want to listen to a whole bunch of rubbish about common colds and his red nose.

"You know what I was thinking about Moony?" he pauses, as if to let me respond, but doesn't "if everyone had more sex, the world would be a better place."

Oh yes, he's definitely better now.

oO0Oo

We push through the hoards of Hogwarts students. They all seem to be congregating around Zonko's. I dread to think what the coming year will be like. Beside me, Sirius is wrapped up in all the Marauder's scarves, hats and gloves. He looks fat, in a… phrase. He looks hot too. WARM. I mean warm.

We spend a while looking for presents, twelve hats for Prongs's… prongs. Cheese for Wormtail. What will the others think if we get joint presents? Ah well.

After a while, we make our way to The Three Broomsticks. We wait in the mile-long queue and I nearly salivate at every butterbeer bought that passes by us. Too bad I forgot to save some money for butterbeer.

"Go find a table, I'll be back as soon as possible."

I circle around for a while, waiting for one of these stupid couples to leave. When a smooching pair FINALLY leaves, I run to their table, leaving a Third Year Hufflepuff with no table. She bursts into tears when I offer an apologetic smile. Then, I see Sirius striding back to the table, a Super-Mega-Massive Butterbeer in his hands.

"Thirsty Remus?"

"Yes!" I all but shout

"Good," he says, producing two straws "Happy Eleventh."


	13. Day Twelve

**Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be **

**Dedication: To my amazing, wonderful, FANTASTIC Mother, who found my bus pass!**

Day Twelve

I need to wrap presents. I could do those massive bows that are really sparkly and pretty. Or I could go all minimalist like those people… what're they called? Actually, I need to talk to Moony about wrapping. We did buy the presents together.

oO0Oo

Padfoot is coming towards me now with a massive bag of presents we bought yesterday in Hogsmeade. I'm in the middle of a DADA essay. It's the last few sentences and I can't think what to write. Sirius looks over my shoulder.

"To conclude, Grindylows are…" It's a perfect prompt, and it's given me an idea of what to write. Completely different to what he said, but you know…

I finis h my writing with a flourish of the quill I received from Prongs for my birthday. I interlock my fingers and look up at him with a questioning gaze.

"Presents!" He shouts. I wish he had lost his voice with that cold of his. I foresee an evening of wrapping all these oddly shaped presents. Damn

oO0Oo

Next to me are a bundle of presents, neatly wrapped and labelled. Sirius wrapped them.

"Padfoot…" I practically whine

"Yup." He says, deep in concentration, tongue poking out slightly as he focuses.

"Help." So he does. He takes me through the motions of wrapping presents and how to make the fold THERE not THERE. It's quite patronising.

"Thanks." I mumble after a while.

"Happy Twelfth he replies whilst wrapping broom cleaner for Prongs.


	14. Day Thirteen

**Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be **

**Dedication: To Helena, who gave me the idea**

Day Thirteen

_When Sirius was worrying about something, he turned into a girl. Granted, not literally, but he flapped and squealed. Thing is, he was worrying about the stupidest thing EVER now, considering he'd done worse things before._

_He'd broken a window._

"Moooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnnyyyyyyyyyyyy!" He flaps, looking for all the world like a giant black haired chicken.

"Mmm?" I ask, except it's not really a question, more an implication than more else and Merlin why am I thinking about this?

"I broke a window!" He's starting to sound like a chicken too.

"And?"

"I need to fix it! Help me! Please! Moony! I'll be killed!" Roasted and eaten, I add in my head.

I point my wand vaguely in the direction of the window and mutter some spell that I can only ever remember at the time of… needance. Is that a word? I don't think so? I need a dictionary. In fact, Sirius should get me one.

"Cluck cluck." Says Sirius

"What!"

"I said thanks!"

"You're welcome. Happy Thirteenth."


	15. Day Fourteen

**Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be **

**Dedication: To anyone who wants the god damned thing.**

Day Fourteen

Sometimes I watch Sirius. As in a calm observation of how he holds himself, talks, walks, _breathes_. It helps me to figure out when I can say things to him, when I can't.

When he gets one of those letters from the big black owl, he always shrugs it off. But his posture changes. He sits up straighter, looks more regal. It annoys me more than most else, because it means he won't tell me what's wrong until later when I'm half asleep. I really won't ever understand him. But then, can any human being fully understand another?

I sometimes ponder on the term best friend I occasionally use whilst talking about him. It's so loose, but does it mean anything? I know that I always think the world of Sirius when he says stuff like 'You're one of the greatest guys I know Moony.' But then he always ruins it, it all goes sour. It all falls apart. Why?

I can't think of anything nice to do for him, something that'll make him genuinely happy or grateful I'm his friend. So all I do today is throw a bit of confetti over him when he wakes up. I say 'Happy Fourteenth' as it's rather obligatory. He shoots me a weird look - another one I can't fathom - then grins throws some confetti at me.


	16. Day Fifteen

**Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be **

**Dedication: To Gospel Choir. Our versions always suck.**

Day Fifteen

_There is a supposedly special Christmas treat this year. All the choirs in Hogwarts (the people no-one ever really remembers) will sing Christmas songs to the rest of the school. There's a First Year Choir, a Second Year Choir, a Third Year Choir then everyone else goes into this one massive choir. They sound pretty cool. You know, if you like that sort of stuff._

This year, Dumbledore has created a Carol Service. I think it sounds amazing! I mean, imagine listening to all of those choirs sing out all of their weeks of hard work. It'll be amazing, fantastic, wonderful, gorgeous! I just wish I could go, but the tickets cost a bit too much for me.

_Moony says he wants to go to the carol thing tonight. I was just like 'Why? It looks boring! If only they were singing good stuff eh?' I think I offended him a bit there. He wants to see it? So be it._

Sirius slinks up to me at ten to six. The Carol Service will start soon. I wish I could be there, see the choirs, absorb the atmosphere. I'm still annoyed at Sirius. How can he not want to be there? It sounds so pleasant and sweet. He starts to talk.

We're at the Carol Service. The night sky is displayed above in the beautiful ceiling. I stop and stare at it for a while. It's so lovely, each start can be seen. The moon is covered by a small, grey cloud. The view is breathtaking.

Wait? What's that?

The choir are processing around the Great Hall singing a sweet melody. They have no music to back them. There's also no light in the whole hall but the candles they are holding. I smile and turn to Sirius. He smiles that smile and winks that wink.

"Happy Fifteenth." He whispers.


	17. Day Sixteen

**Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be **

**Dedication: To all my friends, enjoy the presents!**

Day Sixteen

There is a certain charm to giving out presents. Tomorrow is Saturday 17th and also the day the James and Peter leave for home. I'm staying here because of the moon and Sirius is staying here because… I don't know actually. I should ask but it may be a sensitive subject. We've decided to give out presents tonight, as a group. We've not really had much to do with each other recently. It's weird.

It's amazing what Christmas does to the Professors. The new Charms teacher, Professor Flitwick, was seen walking around today with little… things charmed to follow him around. Even the Slughorn was slightly festive and asked the students to make a Festivity Potion. All in all it was an interesting day.

The evening has rolled around as always. I feel rather drunk sitting on the crimson carpet in our dormitory. It's a nice carpet, so pretty, I wouldn't want to mess it up by vomiting, which I will need to do rather soon. I tell Prongs this.

"Such a nice crapet Prongs. I mean parcet. I mean CARPET. Yes, that's what I mean."

"Mmm." He mumbles noncommittally.

"Present time." Sirius whispers in my ear.

He starts to lob the presents we bought. One lands directly in my lap. I put it under our palm tree as James and Peter stumble to their packed trunks to stuff the gifts inside. They then continue to stumble to bed with a vague 'G'night' in mine and Sirius's direction.

"Now for a proper present." Sirius whispers. I don't know why he's whispering, the others sleep like logs, especially with alcohol in their systems. In fact, the alcohol in mine is making my heart thump. I wonder why.

"Close your eyes." Sirius is still whispering. I wish I knew why. I feel breath close to my cheek.

"Okay, open your eyes!"

I open my eyes to find a huge pair of eyes staring at mine. I little pink tongue comes out and licks my nose. It's a cat.

"Happy Sixteenth!" Sirius now shouts.

Why do I feel disappointed?


	18. Day Seventeen

**Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be **

**Dedication: To Laura, who's sick so near to Christmas.**

Day Seventeen

Lily once told me that boys never fall in love with girls, they just pretend to for the sex. She says that girls always shower love on the object of their affection, but boys never reciprocate. At the time I had a feeling she was at the 'Time Of The Month', so I nodded and said yes and gave her chocolate to placate her. Looking back on it though, I think she may have been right.

Boys only fall in love with boys.

And it's just my luck that I'm one of those boys. I've fallen for Sirius and it's all because of a fucking cat (I actually hate cats) and a kiss that might have been but wasn't.

From what James says, this will hurt. (But then if boys never fall for girls, how would he know?) It probably will hurt, you know with all of the feelings I'll have and crap like that.

I'm more than a little angry at this situation. I mean, he's done seven or eight nice things this December and I've fallen for him. Damn heart, damn mind, damn endocrine system.

Sirius walks into the room and smiles. My heart twangs.

"Happy bloody Seventeenth." I mutter to myself.

"What?" Sirius asks, clearly confused.

"Nothing." I sigh. He looks puzzled but hands me a new quill.

"Happy Seventeenth." He says, smiling again. After more heart twanging, I manage a thank you.

**Yeah, it's sudden. But I like it!**


	19. Day Eighteen

**Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be **

**Dedication: To sesshomaruhasafluffytail, who had (or has) a headache**

Day Eighteen

It's rather weird, but I think when I'm on the loo. Seriously, it's the best place for thinking. In bed, you're too tired to concentrate, in the shower you're busy. In the loo, all you have to do is sit, and shit, there. It's perfect.

Today, my topic is Remus. Last night, I gave him a cat and he looked disappointed. He always said that he wanted a pet and I gave it to him. But he was disappointed. Why? He can't have been expecting anything, this is the biggest thing I've given him and our gifts seem to be spur of the moment things.

Wait, what if he was expecting something? I quickly replay the events of last night over in my head.

"_Present time." I whispered to Remus I threw the various presents to people. Each carefully wrapped present landing in the lap of the desired person. I should've been a chaser with my aim! James and Peter, who always open their presents on Christmas Day, stagger over to their trunks and carefully pack the gifts inside. They then mumble 'G'night' as they wobble into their beds._

_"Now for a proper present." I whispered to Remus. That may have been a bit suggestive, but Moony doesn't swing that way._

_"Close your eyes." I whispered again. His breath quickens as does mine right now. I start to hold up the cat._

_"Okay, open your eyes!"_

_The cat's pink tongue licked his nose_.

That's when he looked disappointed and I wished it was my tongue. Did I just say that? Okay, no more thinking time. I reach for the toilet paper to find… nothing.

"Mooooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnyyyyyyyyy!" I screech "Helllllllllppppppp! I need paper!"

I hear his footsteps and catch the missile of toilet paper.

"Happy Eighteenth." He chuckles. I love his laugh.

"Well shit." I say to myself.


	20. Day Nineteen

**Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be **

**Dedication: To the people who read this, thanks for not getting bored.**

Day Nineteen

_There is, Remus decided, something spectacular about school holidays. You had a chance to relax, sleep, eat. But there was also something bad. That was boredom. Now that both boys have had their revelations, they have something to stew over, something to occupy their time. But Sirius is impatient and Remus unable to concentrate, so both are still bored._

_So Sirius suggests Quidditch, imagining showers afterwards. Remus says yes imagining Sirius dirty. They both conveniently forget the mountains of snow and lack of players, so they now pursue their recreation of choice._

"It's bloody cold." Sirius says, teeth chattering and knees knocking.

"Indeed." I say. He looks supremely unattractive right now, all red and showing off his teeth. Why is he still the sexiest man alive?

Wait. I'm thinking too quickly. I shouldn't actually be thinking this after only just realising that I may have some semblance of attraction toward him. But with the sleek black hair and the full, red lips, I just can't think of him any other way. I turn around to suggest we head back to the castle.

SPLAT

Snowball. Straight in the face. He starts to laugh, a filthy, suggestive laugh that he uses for everything. Pretty soon, I start to giggle too.

"Happy Nineteenth!" He manages, as I plan his snowy doom.


	21. Day Twenty

**Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be **

**Dedication: To Christmas, and the doom it shall bring.**

Day Twenty

It's a bad December for me. I seem to be getting colds at every turn. Granted I spent the best part of yesterday rolling around in snow and generally getting wet. Thank Merlin though that I'm not getting a fully blown flu-thing like last time. This time it's only a few sneezes.

But it makes Moony worried. Worried like I get around Full Moon (which happens to be on Christmas Day this year.) He's looking at me with his eyes all round and his mouth in a subconscious pout. Bloody adorable, but annoying after four hours.

"Remus?" I say, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice.

"Yes." He replies, picking up on the irritation and only looking more worries.

"Can we DO something, please."

"Maybe not, seeing as how you're getting sick again…"

"It's only a-" I pause to sneeze " a bout of sneezing."

"But-"

"Please." I interrupt.

"There is actually another reason we can't do anything." He states in a deceptively calm voice.

"Oh?" I enquire.

He points at the clock, it's eleven o' clock. At night.

"So?" I say.

"What is there to do at eleven o'clock on a Tuesday?"

"Kitchen raid?" I say doubtfully.

Twenty minutes later, we sit at a table (albeit an upturned orange crate) in the Kitchen. We were stopped by various obstacles such as Slytherin's House Ghost and the new, but slightly mad, caretaker. But none-the-less, we're here now. I call over a House Elf and whisper something in it's ear. In virtually no time, a mug of hot chocolate appears.

Moony loves Hogwarts hot chocolate.

"Why only one mug?" He asks.

I shrug and whisper "Happy Twentieth" as he starts to drink from his mug with what can only be describes as dirty sounds.


	22. Day Twenty One

**Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be **

**Dedication: To Mr Effemy, with his cool new haircut.**

Day Twenty One

Okay, I'll admit it. I fancy Remus Lupin. But I'm pretty sure he fancies me back. I don't know why I say this, but let's say instinct shall we? But another thing I've realised is that I may never have a better time to make both of our feelings known, push us toward the amazing thing that is being a couple. Wait, was I always this gay?

Anyway, I need to plan a seduction. It'll have to involve mistletoe and Remus. Should be easy.

And it is. Mistletoe is dotted all around Gryffindor Tower, left by a hopeful James (and ignored by a disdainful Lily.) I catch Remus under the mistletoe placed by the boy's showers and give him a peck on the mouth.

"Happy Twenty First to me." He murmurs while I pretend not to hear.


	23. Day Twenty Two

**Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be **

**Dedication: To the person who taught me why to never plant trees**

Day Twenty Two

Okay, so subtlety is NOT my middle name. But then it never was and never will be. Yesterday I kissed - more of a very short peck really - Remus Lupin. If he didn't know what I was thinking before he bloody well knows now. It'd be interesting to hear his thought train. I have one of two options:

_1) Oh sweet Merlin he kissed me, ME! He likes me, I like him, that sexy, SEXY Black!_

But wait, he would never say that, he's too reserved and…reserved. Well, I have three options as to his thoughts:

_1) See above _

_2) Well, young Sirius Black kissed me, how pleasant, I will now make plans to ravish him.  
_

_3) I hate him, how could he do that?_

Personally I hope it's number one, because wouldn't that be great?

oO0Oo

Here comes Remus, he's coming closer.

"Good." Is all he whispers in my ear. The message is delivered, but it gives me way too much to think about. He laughs before saying "Happy Twenty Second."


	24. Day Twenty Three

**Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be **

**Dedication: To Ioana, who will watch a _Bratz_ movie against her will**

Day Twenty Three

There is something thrilling about all of this amazing tension that hangs in the air. On the other hand, I hate it. It's so unresolved and quite possibly unnecessary. If only I could retaining some of the delicious anticipation whilst still knowing that I can just touch and kiss and hug and all sorts of things. Why is it complicated?

Today, we have both promised to spend a day apart, without any Advent calendar things. We want to keep some sanity as well as Christmas Spirit. We agreed to spend time contemplating Christmas, how to prank Slytherins and the impending doom of New Year.

But all I fond myself thinking about is dark hair. Smooth olive skin and full pouting lips. In my imagination, all these things are writhing underneath me. Begging. Cursing. Biting and any other number of semi-erotic things. Okay, fully erotic. Who knows, who cares. All I do know and care about right now is this incessant need…


	25. Day Twenty Four The Final Day

**Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be **

**Dedication: To T-Rex, for providing me with entertainment whilst writing this. Even if they are all dead.**

Day Twenty Four

_One day until the glorious Christmas Day. Full of opening presents and- oh who the fuck am I kidding? All I want is a dirty blonde boy I know. Preferably wrapped up. With a bow. But nothing else. It's what I want, but is it what I'll get?_

It's one more day of anticipation for bright presents and hurried messages from family and friends. It's also the last day that the mistletoe will be up and excuses can be made. Why waste such an opportunity. It's up in the air, but today, I'll grab it.

_You know what? I spent my childhood demanding things and getting them. I want this. I'm going to take it, despite his wishes. If it's unrequited, I'll blame the Christmas drinks._

If I stand here, by the portrait door, I'm bound to catch him.

_If I just go and find him, snog him, he'll snog back. Right?_

I'll just wait, won't take too long.

_Where is he anyway? I'll have to go and find him if I want to kiss him._

Just wait. Just wait.

_Ah, there he is, by the portrait door. If I go over. If I get the courage first._

Here he comes, down the stairs with all the grace of a mangy dog. Which he is, but you know what I mean. He's hesitating, does he want to talk to me? Does he for some reason hate me?

_I'll just move, it's easy, I've walked before._

Shall I go over there? Here I go, walking on my jelly like legs.

_He's coming here now. What do I do? What do I do? WhatdoId- He's kissing me. It's sweet and slow, gorgeous with a dash of brutality. Guh._

"Happy Twenty Fourth."

"What'll we do on the Twenty Fifth then?"

**Well, thanks for reading that. I know I'm horribly late in posting and writing and all that, but how many people are actually reading this? Two? Ah well, enough of my self-deprecation. Thank you to all the reviewers, reader, people who liked this enough to favourite and alert _An Advent Of Fluff. _And one more thing. Merry Christmas.**


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